


You And Me, We're Poetry

by oneforyourfire



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: It’s easily Sehun’s favorite part of any given morning. The soft, understated affection and possession of a sleepy Do Kyungsoo.





	You And Me, We're Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> first and only sesoo, title from alina baraz & gallimatias’ “drift,”

Kyungsoo's face always looks extra soft, extra beautiful in the dreamy kiss of dawn, his eyes and hair extra dark, his lips extra red. Like this, he’s vulnerable, excruciatingly captivating, and there’s the faintest ghost of stubble across his chin, a certain puffiness along his cheeks and eyelids, a soft shadow against his cheekbones.

And though it’s the first thing he sees most mornings, though it's been _years_ , Sehun—still sluggish with sleepiness—pulls back to get an even better look, drink in all the details. Lips parted, with a crinkle between his dark eyebrows and bangs falling across his eyes, Kyungsoo’s curled tight around Sehun, his breathing deep and even. Really, truly beautiful. Soft and unbearable in it.

Kyungsoo lets out a sleepy sound of protest and presses closer, arms and legs twining tighter as Sehun shifts slowly, tries to stretch his tingling limbs. And even though Kyungsoo often shies away from so much sustained direct touch in waking moments, even though he says that sometimes it's just _too much_ all the touching that Sehun wants and needs, even though, even then, Kyungsoo's sleeping default is to seek Sehun out, squeeze ever closer. In slumber, he often curls so, so impossibly tight that it makes it hard for Sehun to breathe.

It’s easily Sehun’s favorite part of any given morning. The soft, understated affection and possession of a sleepy Do Kyungsoo.

Sehun shifts again, rolling, extricating himself carefully but too fast, and Kyungsoo's head drops from its position near Sehun’s shoulder to his chest. The movement is abrupt, unceremonious, and Kyungsoo blinks his eyes open, grumbles in protest this time. His eyebrows pinch in annoyance even as he winds a persistent arm around Sehun's waist, nuzzling into him, entitled, intentional. His parted lips drag against the skin near the collar of Sehun's rumpled shirt.

It’s an early Saturday morning, and Kyungsoo’s still sleepy enough to demand this.

"Stay still," he chides, voice husky, reprimanding. His hair, voice tickle Sehun’s throat. “You keep _squirming_. Just go back to sleep.”

Sehun's too _bony_ , Kyungsoo often complains. Too stiff. Awkward angles, sharp corners, a waif of a boy. But fuck, he’s so _comfortable_ , Kyungsoo breathes, a grumbled, begrudging compliment. So solid and so _warm_. He should have the decency at least to stay still until Kyungsoo falls asleep again. Come on, for his favorite hyung’s sake.

Sehun shuffles again, just to test him, and Kyungsoo complains but loosens his arms just slightly, tilting his chin up to meet Sehun’s eyes. He levels him with a withering look. And he's so soft and beautiful even glaring up at him, all heavy eyelashes and furrowed brows. He’s disheveled, sleep-rumpled, pillow-creased and puffy-cheeked, but no less menacing.

“Wake up,” Sehun teases, testing again as his fingers dance along the sharp cut of Kyungsoo’s jawline. He twists his body closer, close enough to nuzzle their noses together, humming. “Rise and shine, my Sleeping Beauty.”

Sehun arches into it expectantly when Kyungsoo lands a smack against his side, hissing only slightly at the sting. Kyungsoo’s fingers shift, bite into his hip, and there’s a zip of pain even through his wrinkled tee shirt. Sehun arches into that, too.

Sehun suppresses a shudder as Kyungsoo smirks, repeats the touch. Underneath his clothes this time, fingertips scraping under the loose fabric. Sehun’s bare skin puckers beneath the blunt edge of Kyungsoo’s fingernails. Kyungsoo scratches over his hipbone, skates briefly over the hem of Sehun’s sleep pants, teasing, light. Kyungsoo smiles lazily, bites his lower lip. Intent, purposeful, mean, even in the sluggish languor of interrupted sleep.

Heat curls low, low, low in Sehun’s belly, and his body follows the caress, mindless and automatic as Kyungsoo traces the waistband of his pants, tugs. The elastic protests, snaps, stings. Goosebumps bloom across his skin. And he can’t suppress his shudder this time, his thighs trembling, skin tingling as Kyungsoo lets out a sleepy, appreciative hum, his fingers dragging dragging dragging all the while.

“I can wake you up,” Sehun offers, shaky, affected. His hand gropes out, squeezing hard at Kyungsoo’s bicep to halt his movement. The sheets protest as Kyungsoo rolls forward, his free hand dragging up Sehun’s tense thigh, wrinkling cotton with the teasing graze of his dancing fingertips. He presses even closer, twining around him again, soft skin grazing his as he loops his arm, his leg.

“You sure about that, Mr. Oh?” Kyungsoo laughs against his collarbone, tone teasing but affectionate, still so thick and slow with sleepiness. The words ghost hot and wet along Sehun’s skin.

“Yeah.” And Sehun’s voice is only slightly, slightly unsteady. “Very, very sure.”

“Can make it worth my while?” His eyelashes kiss against Sehun’s throat, lips almost kissing, too. “ _Really_ get the job done?”

“Of course,” Sehun insists, entirely too breathy. “Orgasm, it’s instant caffeine.”

And Kyungsoo laughs right against his Sehun’s pulsepoint. Rich, wet, hot, but not unkind. Husky with sleep, laced with arousal.

“I promise,” Sehun groans in response, shuddering heavily at the wet heat of Kyungsoo’s mouth. “When have I ever let you down?"

And Kyungsoo hums in acknowledgement, his lips parting, tongue grazing. Lingering, a promise or maybe invitation. “My Sehunnie,” he drawls, pulling away to regard him, asses him. “Always so good

And that's as blatant an invitation as he gets on early mornings. A challenge proposed with cocked eyebrows and pursed lips and Kyungsoo’s impossibly dark eyes on his.

Emboldened but still somehow shaking in anticipation, Sehun reaches out for him. Kyungsoo’s wearing Sehun's shirt, nothing beneath, and it makes for the easiest access, sliding his hand up Kyungsoo's bare thigh, teasing up up up over the warm swell of his ass. Kyungsoo’s knee teases just briefly over Sehun’s crotch in response, and Sehun’s fingers splay, caress. Kyungsoo is all luscious lines, soft angles, and Sehun squeezes once, twice, reacquainting himself with the plush firm flesh.

“So easy and eager in the morning,” Kyungsoo groans, breathy, scolding even as presses back into his touch with the softest moan. His lips part against Sehun’s jawline. And Sehun's fingers become bolder, dragging over the seam of Kyungsoo's ass, dancing up to whisper over his rim. Kyungsoo’s moan is slightly louder this time, much more breathless. Trembling, he slots their hips together, so that Sehun drags against him more fully. Half-hard already, he’s aching at the fleeting friction of Kyungsoo’s warm, lush skin against his clothed cock. Easy, eager.

But Kyungsoo, shuddering helplessly against his soft, barely there caresses, he’s also easy and eager. His eyelashes—still heavy with interrupted sleep—flutter with pleasure now, and Sehun continues to graze, not not not quite penetrating not quite yet. Tracing, testing, teasing at sensitive, puckered, trembling flesh, his own body thrums with desire. Kyungsoo’s teeth scrape at his collarbone, arms dragging up to tug at his hair. Enough to gain leverage, grind against him more purposefully. Sehun moans against the crown of Kyungsoo’s head.

They had sex just last night, on their sides, Kyungsoo's front to Sehun's back, his small arms locked around Sehun’s chest in a possessive hold to keep him steady, keep him still as he’d fucked him gasping and trembling. He’d bitten his praises along Sehun’s shoulders, his throat as he’d thrust into him over and over and over again, Sehun moaning and sobbing and begging all the while. And as if remembering, wanting to make Sehun remember, too, Kyungsoo drags his hand up the nape of Sehun's neck, grazing the old marks, tender bruises. Sehun shudders heavily. His fingers jerk, thumbnail dragging. Kyungsoo hisses, lips pursing, eyebrows pinching as he tilts upwards to encourage him further. Quick to comply, Sehun eases a single finger inside, only to the first knuckle, and Kyungsoo moans in response. Sehun, too, at how tight and hot and fluttery he is, just how painfully Sehun wants to be inside of him.

“Wanna fuck you,” he confesses against Kyungsoo’s temple, relishing in the muted shiver that trembles up Kyungsoo’s spine, the way he presses back further against Sehun’s lone, still finger. He clenches purposefully once, twice. “Please, hyung.”

Plush lips drag against his throat in a quiet, breathy _yes_ , and a fresh jolt of arousal skitters through Sehun’s veins.

But as he gropes on their nightstand for their condoms, lube—Sehun wants cherry flavor today, wants to eat Kyungsoo out first so he can get Kyungsoo all loud and trembling like he really only gets in the early morning, when he’s sleepy, uninhibited—Kyungsoo squeezes his wrist, halting his movement. The lube, condom drop to somewhere near his shoulder, roll down the mattress as Kyungsoo’s fingertips dance along his knuckles.

“No, wanna blow you first,” Kyungsoo breathes, proposes right against Sehun’s throat, and Sehun groans heavily, shudders monumentally, goes instantly pliant as Kyungsoo presses him back into the mattress. Kyungsoo smiles down at him as he crawls over him, and Sehun can’t help but squeeze at the bare, supple skin along Kyungsoo’s thighs and waist, pushing his rumpled shirt up to tease briefly over Kyungsoo’s cock, his bellybutton before Kyungsoo is tugging at the hem of Sehun’s own clothes. He presses a soft, succulent kiss to Sehun’s collarbone as his fingers curl around Sehun’s erection.

His grip is loose, but his touch is heated, precise. He finds that extra sensitive spot just beneath the head of Sehun's cock, teases at it with his thumb as Sehun moans, a _please_ already curling heavy and desperate on his tongue.

But Kyungsoo doesn’t tease. Not right now. After two appraising strokes, a lilting _Sehunnie_ , he’s gliding down and settling between Sehun’s legs. And Sehun is straining forward to watch, body tense, fingers tight around the wrinkled cotton of Kyungsoo’s dark green shirt.

Smiling up at him, Kyungsoo drops a series of slow, tender kisses along Sehun’s cock, ruddy lips dragging as he mouths up up up, down, down, down. His tongue laves in a succulent lick, slow and luxurious. And Sehun’s trembling. His fingers tangle only briefly in Kyungsoo’s hair before twisting into the sheets at his side. Cocoa, 200 thread-count, cool and smooth in his clenched fists.

Pillow-creased cheeks hollow as Kyungsoo rises, falls once, twice, eyes dancing up at him all the while. Sehun's bare feet drag over their cool sheets as he pants, moans, tries so so so hard not to fuck into that wonderful wet warmth. The pleasure pools hot and heavy in his veins, a drugging pressure building up up up with every languid glide of Kyungsoo’s gorgeous, perfect mouth.

Gasping, Sehun blinks down at him, shuddering, and Kyungsoo looks extra soft like that, extra beautiful, too, painfully red lips, heavy eyelashes, glittering eyes, furrowed eyebrows. Sehun struggles to keep his eyes open, chest hitching with every delicious drag of Kyungsoo’s lips, tongue.

Kyungsoo’s bobs become slightly sloppy after a while, eyelashes fluttering rapidly, the occasional wet, wet moan spilling from his swollen lips on every retreat.

And he’s tilted so that Sehun can see, hear, _feel_ Kyungsoo easing himself open around a single finger as he sucks him down. Helplessly turned on, Sehun drags him forward and up. Kyungsoo spreads his legs, straddles Sehun’s waist. His ass drags against Sehun’s aching cock as he leans back, continues in his prior ministrations. He opens the lube, smears more before adding another finger, curling in a way that has them both moaning. Kyungsoo, in pleasure. Sehun, in breathless anticipation.

Sehun gropes out for him, and Kyungsoo holds his hand, fingers squeezing tight as he works himself open, face pinching with pleasure, lips parting and jaw slackening and legs trembling after every slick, slick thrust. And Sehun is torn in between watching Kyungsoo’s face, his heaving chest, and lower lower lower to where he’s clenching around his own fingers.

Sehun squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand tighter, reaches out the other to swipe over Kyungsoo’s clothed bellybutton, stroke over his flushed cock. Kyungsoo’s eyelashes flutter shut, stay shut this time. Sehun strokes him again. Faster, tighter. Kyungsoo’s head lolls back to crash against his shoulder, and he’s at three fingers now, curling deep and just right if the way his stomach clenches, cock twitches in Sehun’s grasp is any indication.

Sehun is so hard it aches, arching at every teasing graze of Kyungsoo’s ass against his cock. Not nearly enough. “Kyungsoo,” he moans. Kyungsoo’s eyes, when they blink open, are so dark, heavy, glazed over with want.

“Want me to ride you, Sehunnie?” Kyungsoo asks, his voice so terribly shaky, and he underscores the offer with a wavery moan, a monumental shudder. He’s breathless, breathtaking.

“Yes.”

“Say you’re gonna wake me up, but still want me to do all the work,” he chides, scolds even as he slides his fingers free, bites his lower lip—they’re already so bitten, so red—and braces himself on Sehun’s heaving chest. He reaches back with his free hand to try to slide a condom on. His angle is awkward, movements clumsy, and Sehun has to complete the task, no less awkward, clumsy, but at least more successful. He gropes for the tacky bottle of lube to lather more on, too, moaning at the friction. Kyungsoo in the meantime scrapes his blunt fingernails down Sehun’s chest, dragging at soft, wrinkled cotton as he positions himself. Extra beautiful, extra soft, a golden, dazzling, haloed vision, his lips plush and parted, eyes dark and wanting.

And Sehun wants to kiss him first, loves the taste of Kyungsoo’s shivering moans every time Sehun slides into him, the way his jaw goes slack, lips trembling against his at the stretch. But he knows that Kyungsoo hates the taste of his morning breath, so he refrains. Instead, he drags his hands up Kyungsoo's sleep-rumpled shirt, tangling in his hair, tugging him down still, but sucking along his throat, his jawline as Kyungsoo sinks down onto him. Kyungsoo’s skin still trembles against his mouth, shuddery, so, so hot. His eyelashes flutter helplessly against Sehun’s throat.

“So big,” he manages, breathless, tight, low, low, low. “So good.” Sehun’s hips jerk, and Kyungsoo laughs around a moan. “So easy,” he hums. “So eager.”

Kyungsoo—mercifully—doesn’t usually have the energy or faculties to be teasing in the morning. He doesn’t drag it out, make Sehun beg, doesn’t urge him to _earn_ it.

No, not in the morning, not like this.

The pace is lazy, languid, but no less needy and hot. Kyungsoo writhes on him slow and sensual, dropping kisses and moans and little nipping bites along his neck as he moves. It’s not the usual force, his limbs looser, less demanding, blunt nails skittering not scraping, hips moving, not bouncing as his jaw falls slack with low, low sounds of contentment. And Sehun, in the morning, isn’t scrambling to keep up.

Sehun squeezes Kyungsoo closer, lets him set this maddeningly slow pace, but thrusts up on ever descent, seeking out the hot, hot release that Kyungsoo’s body promises.

Kyungsoo pulls away after three, four drops, his small fingers closing over Sehun’s wrists pinning them to the bed. “If I’m doing all the work, I’m getting all the control. Know that’s how you like it best.”

And yes, yes, but Sehun’s wrists protest against Kyungsoo’s hold anyway, and he’s aching to squeeze at the supple skin of Kyungsoo’s writhing waist, to graze over the pucker of Kyungsoo’s nipples. Denied the ability, he digs his fingers into his own fists, shuddering, thrusting weakly as he watches Kyungsoo move.

There’s something captivating in every smooth, smooth drop. Kyungsoo’s utterly dreamy and surreal, golden and mesmerizing, commanding, reminding him of the here, the now, the heat between them, the heaviness of this their gorgeous, gorgeous want, early in the morning as it is.

_Love how responsive you are_ , Kyungsoo has praised in the past. _Love how you can’t ever help but tell me how good it feels_.

And really, though it’s often helpless, an automatic response, Sehun plays it up for his sake, panting breathless praises with every slow, slow grind upwards, trembling under Kyungsoo’s every movement, begging at one point—though Kyungsoo is hardly pushing him as hard, as he often does—to let him take over. Let him please please please, he wants to do all the work. He’d promised, please, wouldn’t Kyungsoo like for Sehun to show him how good it feels to—

Kyungsoo, gasping as he grinds down, relents. And there’s the brief, dizzying reversal of positions, Sehun sliding out of him with a slick, filthy pop as Kyungsoo collapses back against the sheets. Kyungsoo’s a gorgeous tangle of straining muscles and trembling limbs and hitched moans, and Sehun is achingly hard, enraptured. Kyungsoo’s extra soft, extra beautiful, extra _his_ like this, bathed in gold, flushed, glowing, a dazzling, dizzying display of desire. He lays back in invitation, lips and legs parted, open and wanting. Sehun falls into him readily, pushes in deep with a thrust that has Kyungsoo moaning hotly against his throat. And there are plush lips at his jawline, wet kisses along his skin, a hand cradling his cheekbone, dazed dark, dark, eyes on his, his name in a breathy, breathy moan.

Sehun pulls back, sinks in, deliberate and dragging, the pace he sets slow, deep, breathless, needy.

Kyungsoo arches and gasps and hums and grasps at him after every thrust, urging him closer, his body a warm welcome cradle, clenching hard, tight on every retreat. Sehun buries his own moans into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck, licking along the sweaty skin as he rocks into him over and over again.

He’s pressed impossibly close. Close enough to feel the graze of Kyungsoo’s cock against his navel on every slide inside, close enough to feel it also when Kyungsoo glides his fingers down to stroke himself off. Close, close enough to tremble with Kyungsoo’s every shudder as he falls closer and closer to the edge.

“Come come come,” Kyungsoo coaxes in between moans, his voice husky with arousal, with exertion, so frayed at the edges. Sehun mouths down Kyungsoo’s chest, dampening fabric in a clumsy display of possession as he bites down on Kyungsoo’s nipple, relishes in his bitten off gasp. And his rhythm just barely, barely falters as Kyungsoo continues in his urgings. “Come, Sehunnie. Come inside me. Come on. Come. Come. Come.”

Grinding hard, biting harder, Sehun surrenders to the white teasing at his vision, thrusts stuttering to a halt as orgasm washes over him. Kyungsoo shudders beneath him as he starts to recover, fingernails scraping along his biceps with a shuddery whine.

And Sehun pulls back enough to rest their foreheads together, drink down Kyungsoo’s pants, watch the way his eyes cloud over then come into focus again.

Still tingling with the receding waves of orgasm, Sehun hums, nuzzles into him, even as Kyungsoo pushes insistently at his shoulders, urges him off, away. Sehun, instead, spares a moment to tie off his condom and toss it away before he slides a hand around Kyungsoo’s waist, biting down on the nape of his neck as Kyungsoo makes to roll away.

Awake now, or awake enough, Kyungsoo grumbles about needing _space_ , but relents so easily when Sehun drags an appreciative hand down his waist.

Kyungsoo turns in his arms, presses his painfully plush lips to the column of Sehun’s throat. His fingernails scrape down Sehun’s scalp, lips curling into a smile as Sehun shudders. By the second pass, Sehun’s eyes have fluttered shut. By the third, fourth, he’s been lulled into an utter stupor, limbs loose, jaw slack, mind hazy.

“Instant caffeine,” Kyungsoo chuckles, breathy, amused, halting his movements. Sehun whines, drags Kyungsoo’s fingers back. “When have I ever let you down, hyung,” he imitates, dragging his nose up Sehun’s jawline, teasing his mouth over Sehun’s earlobe, chuckling again as Sehun shudders again. “My Sleeping Beauty, wake up. Your handsome prince is here.”

Sehun opens his eyes only enough to see the blurred contour of Kyungsoo’s cheek, the harshness of his tilted eyebrow. Extra beautiful, extra soft, extra his, before shutting his eyes, dragging Kyungsoo forward into a languid, languid slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> double crosspost from sesoo fest 2015 and my lj comm


End file.
